


Across the Stars (you'll still be a git)

by kolachess



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00q is not quite a mirror of Anakin/Padme, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Bastardization of Star Wars names, Bond is a Jedi Master, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Humor, M/M, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Political babble and sci fi nonsense, Q and Padme are distantly related, Q is a Senator, Star Wars AU, because this is a Star Wars AU, unashamed Star Wars references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolachess/pseuds/kolachess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In honor of the new Star Wars VII: Force Awakens, a collection of 00Q drabble sequence in the Star Wars AU you never asked for.</p><p>  <i>Q froze. “Jedi?” he repeated incredulously, to which Eve just hummed noncommittally. Pausing to mull over the new information, Q took a full ten seconds before proceeding warily with a sinking feeling in his stomach, “Yvna… exactly which Jedi am I supposed to be expecting?”</i></p><p>In which Q is a Senator, Bond is a Jedi, but they are <i>not</i> Anakin and Padme. Repeat: they are <i>not</i> Anakin and Padme. After all, Padme never wanted to kill Anakin on sight and scatter his limbs to the far corners of the Galactic Republic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this came from, or where it's going. But since it's a drabble sequence, it gives me a lot of room to wiggle around in and just have fun with it.
> 
> That said, I did take tons of liberty with this. It'll have a lighter tone than what Star Wars I-III is known for, and there is a lot of bastardizing Star Wars names. Seriously. Though to be fair, I'm certain the Star Wars universe was created on names being slapped together anyways.
> 
> This takes place sometime between Episode II and Episode III, AKA the brief happy period before everything gets shot to hell, which may or may not have any impact on this story. I haven't thought that far yet.
> 
> You're being warned of political babble, and some Star Wars babble (I'm half going off memory, half wookiepedia on this stuff). 
> 
> But please, if you see glaring Star War inaccuracies, point it out!
> 
> Otherwise, in honor of Star Wars VII and yet another unholy clashing of different fandoms, enjoy!
> 
> Once again, I own neither works. :(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond is the Jedi Council's anti-poster boy, Q has trouble dressing himself, and Eve is everyone's savior.

James Bond may not have had ‘The Hero With No Fear’s’ degree of popularity and ubiquitous, ‘even the Outer Rim planets have heard of his name’, type of fame, but the Jedi Master could confidently say his name tended to stir some recognition among the masses. He was a poster boy of a different sort—though, perhaps not the kind the Jedi Council approved of. In fact, he distinctly recalled being pulled aside by Master Yoda on several accounts in fruitless attempts to reign in his rampant venture of sleeping his way through the majority of the staff of any visiting dignitary—sometimes even the dignitary themself.

 _Attachment leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed, that is,_ the Elder would say. James was willing to bet five thousand credits it was the same line, verbatim, used on generations of unsuspecting Padawans who would initially shuffle their feet and look reprimanded, but eventually grow to adopt James’s temperament and largely learn to tune out the Jedi Master. That, or if you were like Obi-Wan and liked to be a complete stickler for rules— _how boring_ —you’d treat the words as the Force itself and spend the rest of your life a hermit churning out generations of more hermits.

Unfortunately for James, the former scenario actually happened very rarely, and it had taken until young Anakin Skywalker came under Obi-Wan’s wing for there to be another person who wasn’t Alec who shared his views. The Padawans who did challenge and flaunt the Jedi Code like James did usually never made it to Knight. (There was a fine line between toeing the Code and being verbally defiant, and actually impertinently trotting over it, which the Council did not take lightly, and James did a marvelous job of sticking to the first case.)

Of course, James didn’t think Master Yoda appreciated his explanation for his non-violation of the Jedi Code—‘ _There are no attachments if I don’t even know their name.’_ somehow did not sound particularly appeasing even if it were true, and did little to dim the reprehensive look on the Jedi Master’s face. Still, James remained true to his word and happily took a different being—James was not picky about gender, race, or form—to bed every other night of the week.

So certainly, James did not have Anakin Skywalker’s claim to fame, but he was quite happy with his own reputation as the Jedi ‘lover’. He was quite safe from any sort of ungainly attachments—something he wasn’t sure could be said of young Skywalker; James swore the man had some dalliance with the Senator from Naboo, and Obi-Wan was just too thick to notice.

Oh well.

* * *

“Eve, have the ORFTA addendum documents been sent over by Senator Bwi’laek yet? They should be subjected ‘Items A-4 and B-6’,” came the smooth and precise voice of the Bakuran senator from behind the changing screen.

The young woman tried to not roll her eyes at the way her employer was frantically shuffling through half his wardrobe for the appropriate Senatorial robes. They only had about an hour and half till Session, and considering Coruscant’s state of skylane traffic as well as the fact that they were supposed to have _chaperones_ to the Senate… Eve estimated her senator had roughly ten minutes to get dressed before they had guests in their hotel suite.

“No, Q. Senator Bwi’laek has not sent you anything aside from another _invitation to dinner at the Atrinox Club_ ,” she drew out the last part in a mocking tone.

Q poked his head out from behind the screen, an expression of disappointment and frustration coloring his facials. “What? I _explicitly reminded_ him how pressing this matter was—for someone so keen on seeing this trade agreement passed, he’s surprisingly slow-moving about it all!” he huffed out angrily before resuming his mad dash for clothes. “Aha!” came the triumphant shout as the young man located his undershirt.

Eve did roll her eyes this time. “And for someone who makes a living in politics, you are surprisingly daft about other people’s motivations at times,” she muttered to herself, knowing that further berating of the man would be wasted energy. “Are you _sure_ you don’t need my help getting ready?” she called out warily.

“No. All fine!“ came the assurance, followed by the very non-reassuring sound of someone tripping and falling over. “Don’t worry!”

 “You do realize that we are due to have guests in… five minutes? Assuming they are on time?” she said with a quirk of her brow.

The mop of messy brown curls popped out again. “What? Since when?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“Since last week—do you _ever_ look at your calendar personally or do you resort to me being your keeper?” Eve questioned, exasperation pickling her tone.

Q offered her a meek, sheepish grin. “Is that not what I’ve hired you for?”

“I’m your undersecretary, _not_ your PA,” came the annoyed response.

“Oh. What's the difference?” he remarked cheekily before frowning. “Who did you say was due?”

“I didn’t. But it looks like the Senate has assigned you, for the lack of a better term, _bodyguards_. Something about the tense political climate concerning legislation IG-OR84-26B and the necessity of preventative measures,” Eve summarized as she scanned the latest logistical report.

Q scoffed, walking out and adjusting the collar of his dark gray robes, tailored to fit his form to perfection—Q argued it fit his inability to breathe. “You mean the political climate that hangs like a Gilvaanen solar storm? When is it _not_ there? I just hope it’s not some backhanded attempt by Tua Al-Veen to get me to pull my support for the legislation. She’s desperate to get Falleen’s yttrium blockade lifted while profits are still high and if the ORFTA agreement goes through, it’ll mean all her work is for naught. I suppose that’s motive to conduct subterfuge…” he trailed off with a frown, subconsciously readjusting his sleeves for the past minute.

“I doubt it, unless Tua Al-Veen’s got her tentacles rooted in the Jedi Council,” Eve replied while moving to help Q with the cuff links.

Q froze. “Jedi?” he repeated incredulously, to which Eve just hummed noncommittally. Pausing to mull over the new information, Q took a full ten seconds before proceeding warily with a sinking feeling in his stomach, “Yvna… exactly _which_ Jedi am I supposed to be expecting?”  

Eve faltered at the use of her proper name. It wasn’t often her employer took to it. “Erm… I’m not sure… but I think they mentioned the name ‘Bonds’?”

The young senator sighed, pushing a hand through hair. “It’s ‘Bond’. And before you ask, no I’ve never met him. But from what Padme and Skywalker have told me about him, you and I are in for an interesting evening.”

* * *

When he and Alec were assigned to the task of ‘babysitting’ some senator, James admittedly was hoping for someone like Amidala. She was a fierce, gorgeous, petite thing who had an iron spirit and sharp tongue that could command the attention and sway the will of half the Galactic Senate. Leave it to Skywalker to unwittingly snag the attention of one of the most beautiful beings in the Senate—most of the others are a bunch of grumpy elders. Again, James wasn’t picky, but… well, that’s not to say he didn’t have his preferences.

So when he saw the foreign dignitary he was to escort… _The Bakura system? Likely human, possibly Pw’eck or Kurtzen,_ he recalled with thoughtful look. He then continued to scan further down the page.

_Senator Quentillion Grey Monterrie_

_Oh Sith_ , was the only thing that came to mind.

Wasn’t this the distant cousin that Amidala was actually fond of?  He supposed that, in a way, his prayers were answered. 

Just… maybe for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully I'll post one thing per day leading up to Star Wars. It's been fun to write so far.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q is a damn good Senator, Bond and Trevelyan are dorks and undeserving of the title of Master, and Anakin and Padme make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... here's number 2! Thanks to all you lovely folks who gave this crazy story a chance!
> 
> Same disclaimers and warnings apply. Namely, complete and utter abuse of Star Wars terminology. Some are even completely made up. See if you can pick those out ;)
> 
> FYI, 'Basic' is essentially 'English' for us non Star Wars beings.

“I understand your concerns, Senator Khaleesh, and it is my point that the Favin System would only benefit from this agreement. The current routes through the Esnir Belt are riddled with space pirates and smuggler ports. I’ve run the numbers and it appears that if the Gentari routes were to become protected under the new legislation, Favin could see a markup of thirty to forty percent in exports to the other Outer Rim territories,” Q countered steadily, voice carrying through the large Senatorial Chamber.

James watched the proceedings with a reluctant sense of awe. Although he often escorted senators and government officials to and from such events, most of the politicking fell on James’s ears as favor currying or pigheaded stupidity. Oftentimes, the most sensible voices were drowned out in favor of the louder, more obnoxious ones. It seemed that whatever it was in their bloodline, Amidala and now, Monterrie, were both forces to be reckoned with.

And as if to corroborate his suspicions, he felt a faint tremor in the Force as the young senator from Bakura continued to speak, his acerbic wit coated with just enough sugar to wield dangerous sway. He snuck a glance at Amidala and noted the faintest look of pride on her otherwise taciturn face.

“…recent approval ratings for droids has been increasing. If you are worried about what Bakura can bring to the table, I assure you we are possibly the most technologically advanced Outer Rim system precisely due to our lack of droids. Our Sentient Interface Units require high volumes of callesian alloy, which the Despan System and Tyr Planets have plenty of, and it would also choke the Esnir smuggling routes out of a profit, based on how many SIUs are smuggled out each year.”

If it weren’t inappropriate, James would have let out a low whistle with how the young senator single-handedly countered each and every opposing point thrown his way. 

The youth was just continuous stream of surprises. James thought back to their first meeting three days ago.

 

_“Bond. James Bond. Jedi Master, at your service, Senator Monterrie,” James introduced himself, nodding his head in respect and flashing the young man a dazzling, trademark Bond smile._

_“Master Bond,” came the testy response. “Please, call me Q.” James glanced up in surprise, the corners of his mouth already pulling into an amused half-smirk. “And, no, that does not equate to an invitation into my bed, Master Jedi,” Q continued bluntly, leveling a glare at the Jedi for good measure._

_James stared, blinking a couple of times. “Ah, it would seem…”_

_“…that your reputation precedes you? You are correct, Master Bond. Although, unlike the swooning damsels or mindless sentients you so famously woo, I have no interest in becoming an addition, especially since I have it on good authority that you tend to be, quote, ‘a bit full of himself’, end quote,” the senator spoke tersely, poised and calm, but deliberate with his words._

_Ah. He had a good idea who was quoted. Beside him, Alec gave a hearty laugh. “Don’t mind him, Q. James has specific orders from Senator Amidala and the Council to not attempt anything foolhardy. Though, mind you, it’s not the Council he’s afraid of,” Alec remarked with a wink. “Alec Trevelyan, Jedi Master. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”_

_“Likewise,” Q murmured, relaxing a bit and offering the other Jedi a half-smile. “Well, now that all the un-pleasantries are all out of the way, shall we have some refreshments? And then we can talk about why the Council deemed it necessary to send me two Jedi Masters to babysit me, however flattering it is.”_

_James muttered something about un-pleasantries just starting and Alec just laughed and clapped his back._

The next two days had been a flurry of furious paperwork and preparation. Q and Yvna—Eve—would spend hours into the late night and early morning redrafting counterpoints and analyzing all the data, their sources, and how it ought to be integrated into the debates, which were then followed by long hours in the Senate. James and Alec were given the room next door and spent most of their time bored out of their minds. Usually the morning traffic was when they were most alert, as well the entering and exiting of the hotel, but once they’d reached the Senate, security was tight enough that there was little need for them to linger.

And yes indeed, believe it or not, James was in the Senate _by choice_.

Alec only snickered—it wasn’t fair, the bastard stuck around too—and James shoved the other subtly through the Force, which earned him some comment about being childish.

“Three days and already you’re taken with the senator… wait till _Skywalker_ gets a hold of this one,” Alec cackled gleefully. “James _Bond_. Taken in by a fiery little senator. Honestly. And Amidala’s relation no less! The parallels between the two of you are too much sometimes. Cocky bastards.”

“That’s a load of bantha spit, Alec. Skywalker has zero finesse when it comes to these matters. I’m not a hormonal adolescent Jedi declaring love for the first beautiful being he sees.” James’ lips curled distastefully, bristling at the comparison.

Both brows rose into Alec’s hairline. “No, you’re just a middle-aged Jedi Master pervert lusting after anything that moves. And happens to be smitten with one that refuses to budge to make room for your inflated ego and libido. Is that it? He turns you down, you trail after him like a curious Ewok?” Alec couldn’t resist nudging his friend with a waggle of his brows. “Also, don’t think I’ve missed the lack of denial.”

A smirk was James’ response. “I’m practical. And no, I have had offers… rejected before”—very rarely, of course—“and I never intended to deny anything, nor hide the fact. He is not unpleasing to look at, if you know what I mean.”

Alec snorted. “So long as you treat this as a conquest or game, you will never see the underside of the senator’s robes. You do realize he doesn’t like you? Specifically, the entire _idea_ of you?”

A deliberate smile spread over James’ lips. “For now,” he state calmly, entirely unconcerned. 

“You really are full of yourself.” Alec rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you,” came the unhesitant, unashamed response. 

“Is he even of age?” Alec suddenly wondered. 

“I’m certain Bakura wouldn’t allow an underage youth represent the fate of an entire star system,” James pointed out calmly.

“Yes, well… Bakura has a different coming-of-age than the Galactic standard, right?” 

James rolled his eyes. “I’m fairly certain the senator is of age by Galactic standards. Do you have a point to all of this aside from a poor attempt at illustrating the drastic age difference between us?” 

The other Jedi grinned salaciously. “No. But I deserve a bit of fun after staking out this boring session for you to make Gungan eyes at the senator.”

“I see. Alec?” James started.

“Yes?” responded Alec.

“Do shut up now.” 

* * *

Eve walked onto a battlefield.

Or, that’s what she thought when she returned to the Bakuran envoy suite with a fresh cup of Juma juice and a plate of warra nut cookies balanced precariously on her datapad.

It was a testament, of course, to the hotel that not even the tiniest audible indication of chaos happening behind closed portals filtered through the sound proof doors. Needless to say, she was rather shocked speechless when the suite entrance spiraled open to reveal overturned desks and chairs, a frantic B2 unit flying around wailing on repeat, ‘emergency protocol A4-V1 initiated’, Tarquinian feathers scattered everywhere, the stench of smoked circuitry perforating the air and the infuriated voice of her superior raining Sith-fire down on… oh of course, _Bond_.

“…the name of Sith did you get such a fantastically imbecilic idea?” Q shouted in pure anger, cheeks flushed with ire and his sleeves flapping dramatically as he waved his arms.

“I was only trying to help,” Bond began, actually appearing properly admonished as he glanced woefully at the destruction around them.

“In what universe would using _a three foot lightsaber_ to cut a _one millimeter_ opening on a _highly-sensitive_ , _one-of-a-kind_ hydro-glycolic fuel cell prototypebe _at all_ the _sensible_ thing to do?” the Bakuran senator raged fearsomely, features darkening quicker than a nebula storm. “Need I remind you it was a _one-of-a-kind prototype_? Prototypes _generally_ being, _one-of-a-kind_? Or was I speaking to the air when I said, _Master Bond, whatever you do, please don’t touch any of the tech in the room_?” 

Bond sniffed and muttered something about the Force failing him in his ‘moment of need’ while Trevelyan stood off to the corner desperately holding onto his sides in poorly-contained laughter.

“Absolute, moronic, laser-brained sleemos… I’m not entirely convinced that this _isn’t_ some ridiculous plot of Tua Al-Veen’s to undermine me… Jedi Masters indeed,” Q scoffed, a hand pushing through his frazzled hair, which had long since lost its kempt state. The young man then proceeded to ramble about ‘stuck up Jedis’ and their ‘predictable tendencies’ to ‘thwack anything they can with a blasted lightsaber’ and how it was probably some form of ‘overcompensation’. (Bond made a noise of complaint, but Q shot him down instantaneously with a withering glare.)

Eve’s response to the whole situation was to quietly move next to Trevelyan and settle her cargo onto the nightstand, the only unturned and undamaged surface in the whole room. She glanced at the Jedi Master, who was still observing the scene with a disturbingly gleeful look, and sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that I’ll be seeing Master Bond a lot even after all of this is over?” 

Beside her, Trevelyan laughed.

* * *

As it turned out, James ended up having to spend the entire evening and following day cleaning up his mess ( _without_ the help of the Force, and Q would know because he assigned his personal SIU droid—he dubbed it 'Minion'—to watch).

He then spent the entire weekend grumbling unhappily as Skywalker and Q tinkered and toiled with techs, enthusiastically exchanging tips and pointers on each other’s latest prototypes and various tech components, and generally speaking in a language that sounded a lot like Basic, but James could have sworn was anything but.

The only consolation was that Senator Amidala had also visited with Skywalker and had been relegated to the sidelines with him. Of course, his only attempt at flirting earned him a cool smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a comment of, _If you want my cousin to like you, Master Bond, I would start by showing more restraint than a Youngling with a brand new training saber._

 

James settled for glaring at Skywalker instead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist showcasing Q's geekiness. And I'd also like to think Anakin might have had some other friends and that his life wasn't just a gigantic tragedy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q and Bond are pursued by people who want them dead, and Eve freaks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I watched The Force Awakens! I won't spoil things but only say... go watch! But only after you watch all the prequels, otherwise you miss out on half the fun :P

“Turn left. _Left_ , I said!” came the frantic shout to the right of him. 

“There were two speeders in that lane!” James countered, frustration evident as he jabbed a hand in that direction.

“Not if you’d turned when I told you to turn!” Q shouted back, bracing himself as they made another insane dive through the Coruscant sky lanes, missing one airspeeder by a couple of feet. James cursed.

“Scanner at two o’clock. You’re coming up on a traffic circle in fifteen hundred meters, take a jump at the first exit and then do an immediate shift right onto the H50 port-bound lane, and we can lose them in the Vena district.” Q rattled off the instructions with precision and clarity as his fingers tapped away at the datapad in his lap. 

In another time and place, James might act offended at being commanded, but since a critical portion of his brain was preoccupied with maneuvering their speeder through Coruscant’s rush hour traffic while attempting to shake their pursuers off their tail, the Jedi Master decided he’d table that thought for a later. “Shit…” He made another swerve to avoid an unfortunate speeder that attempted to shift onto his track, but dutifully managed to follow Q’s directions to the letter.

As the Jedi continued to perform feats way outside the vehicle’s scope of intended use, his eyes caught the navigation dash alerting him to the presence of an targeting mechanism. “Shit… Q, duck!” he screamed just in time for the senator to dodge the laser beams shooting across his seat. James swerved again. “Can you handle a blaster?” he shouted. 

“A blaster?” Q rolled is eyes despite his awkward position of crouching over in the seat. “Master Bond, I designed and make several of newer lines in use by the Republic.”

James shot him a look of utter affronted bewilderment. “What sort of senator spends his spare time creating weapons?”

“Weapons are simply another piece of technology! And you know how I like to… dabble… with tech…” the younger man defended.

Another misfire cut off whatever James was about to retort. Remembering the purpose for his original inquiry, he said, “Side compartment, first button to open… you should find a blaster in there. I’d shoot back at our friends.”

Q did as he was told and quickly pulled out the M1-240. His hands nimbly glided over the tech, turning on the power source, adjusting the charge frequency, and unlocking the targeting mechanism all in under a second. “If you knew this was here, why the kreth did you not mention it before?” he complained, hoisting the blaster around and shooting the glass on one of the pursuant speeders. 

James grimaced. “Forgot until they started shooting at us.”

“Sith… it’s quite difficult to aim when we’re moving around so much…” Q muttered mostly to himself.

“We’re moving around so damn much precisely because it makes it difficult for _them_ to aim at _us_!”

“I know, I know.” Q spat back. “I’m just… shit at this. This is useless.”

“I thought you said you knew how to handle a blaster!” James groaned as he made another dive through the narrowing streets of the Vena district, which was known for its clunky architectures that discouraged high frequency of speeder transit. “Let’s just hope we don’t crash ourselves before losing those goons…”

“I do! I just… am shit at aiming… “ Q admitted a bit grumpily.

James couldn’t afford to roll his eyes, but did scoff. “Brilliant. Any wonderful plans then that don’t involve us becoming laser brained?”

 Q was quiet for a moment. Then, “Kill the engine.”

James blinked. “ _What_?” he growled incredulously. “We are in a high speed pursuit, in which _we_ are the ones _being pursued_. And you want me to _kill the engines_? Are you insane, Q?”

To his credit, the senator did not react, opting to ignore James’ outburst. “After you take a few of the back routes and have gained about three to five seconds ahead of them, kill the engines. Go dark."

James continued to stare—at the path of course. “I’m sorry. I was under the assumption that you knew how air speeders worked. You do realize if we killed the engine, we’d—you know— _fall_. Towards the planet surface. Which is about seven hundred meters below us. “

Q smiled thinly. “I’m aware. I’m also aware of the safety mechanisms built into this speeder which fully equips all passengers with ejection and suspension capabilities.”

“You want me… to drop my Aston M4 into oblivion,” he repeated a little hollowly.

“… it’s either that or for us to, as you put so eloquently, ‘become laser-brained.’” Q shrugged.

The Jedi grumbled his discontent and frowned woefully at his speeder. “You better make me an even better speeder…”

Q grinned, eyes lighting up with delight. “Of course. It would be my pleasure. Now please, if you will, before we actually are laser-brained.” 

So James did as he was told, and may have shed a small tear as he watched his beloved Aston die in a fiery explosion about several seconds after their pursuers raced off in the direction they thought their targets were headed.

This was not how he wanted the day to go.

* * *

 “Q! Oh thank the Force you are alright,” Eve’s relieved voice came from behind, before he was enveloped in a tight, smothering hug that had his head pressing into the undersecretary’s bosom.

“Mhf… Eve…” the frazzled man cried out weakly. Q smelled of sweat, grime, fuel and smoke, but Eve refused to let go, hand continuously rubbing the other’s back out of reassurance, though perhaps more for herself than him.

James watched on with an air of amusement. He looked no worse than Q, but given how polished he usually appeared, he seemed a lot worse for the wear. He was all smiles until Eve turned her attention on him. Releasing her senator and now glaring at the Jedi, she spoke, “And as for you, Master Bond…” James’ eyes widened momentarily in panic. Opening his mouth to defend himself and apologize for not properly looking after the other man, James was pleasantly surprised to instead by swallowed in a bone crushing hug as well.

“Ah… “ was all he could say, a bit at loss with the whole thing. Q of course, observed with a suppressed smile. 

“When I got the call from Alec that you’d never made it to rendezvous…” She pursed her lips and sighed. “I kept thinking the worst…” she said in a small voice.

Q’s eyes immediately softened, and he rubbed her arm sympathetically. “I’m sorry I made you worry… but I was in capable hands, Eve.” He offered a slight smile of reassurance. With all his attention on his best friend and most loyal staff member, he missed the way James slightly preened at the unintentional compliment.

Eve sniffed, eyes blinking back the onset of tears. “I started looking into the entire matter, of course.” Another sniff. “…and I’ve compiled a list of persons with motive. There are the usual suspects, of course, but also some interesting others. Nothing better to do in the meantime of waiting,” she explained with a dismissive gesture, but Q’s eyes spoke volumes on his gratitude for her efforts.

“Thank you, Eve. We can look into this tomorrow. I always have a list of people who want to kill me. Kreth, even _Bond_ here made it,” he joked to lighten the mood. “Let’s just have some tea now and relax, shall we? Considering the very trying day we’ve all had.”

Eve nodded, and followed Q’s lead to sit down at the micro kitchen table. “G9, some Grendalava tea please. Three cups. Eve and Q’s preferences, plus one with three sugars.” The droid nodded dutifully and proceeded to carry out its duties.

After they all sat down with tea and drank a few sips to calm frayed and exhausted nerves, Eve piped up with a frown. “So… it’s been bugging me… but how is it that you two weren’t with Alec when this all happened? I was under the impression that the two of you were to remain with Q at all times outside the hotel.”

James blinked before his memory kicked in, his lips pulling into a smirk. “Ah… why don’t you ask your beloved Senator that.”

Eve then turned her questioning gaze on Q, who was beginning to turn a lovely shade of pink. “Well… that is… we were… Master Bond and I were…” He cleared his throat. “…there was a Bantha Burger joint… and I’ve never… Bond insisted that we… well…” he finished lamely with a vague gesture and a grimace.

Eve stared, smirk slowly spreading over her lips. “Q… are you trying to tell me… that the two of you were out on a _date_?”

Q groaned. Bond laughed.


End file.
